


Downgrade

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Philip’s taken; Ray hates it.
Relationships: Ray Green/Philip Pearson | Traveler 3326
Kudos: 24





	Downgrade

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The alpha in Ray roars to turn the car around, drive Philip home to _Ray’s house_ where he belongs, and then Ray can tuck him into bed and pet through his hair and hold him through the night. Ray hasn’t had an omega stay over in _years_ , but he’d actually clean the mess up to make room for Philip. He’d even launder the sheets for once. He’d provide all the blankets Philip needed, bring water to the bedside table, soothe the raging heat that’s going to claw up any minute. Ray can see it in Philip’s quickened breath and the flush beneath his skin. His fingers dig into his thighs, his gaze lost out the window, but Ray keeps glancing over and seeing all the trouble that Philip’s drowning in. The drugs only make it worse. Heats are bad enough on their own. Ray acutely remembers his first wife breaking every dish in the cupboards and crying enough to fill up the sink. Ray wasn’t much help to her, but he thinks he could manage for Philip.

Third time’s the charm. He could be the very thing that Philip needs. He could clear up the addiction, the heats, the legal troubles—and all he asks in return is that Philip come home with him. He doesn’t even need bets anymore. The right omega would be enough. Omegas like Philip don’t come around very often.

But Philip’s got a collar around his neck with another man’s name, and Ray doesn’t break the law where he knows he’ll be caught. He drives Philip down the grungy back alley to the warehouse Ray secured. It’s in another alpha’s name now— _Grant MacLaren._ Some uptight officer in a suit with a badge. The car pulls to a stop, and there’s a moment where Ray and Philip look at each other.

Then Philip averts his eyes and mutters, “Thanks.” He kicks his way out of the passenger’s side. Ray should probably drive off, but instead, he exits too. 

Philip looks back as Ray follows him to the door. Then that door’s sliding open, and MacLaren’s there, stoically eyeing Philip up with a professional detachment that makes Ray’s blood boil. Ray’s seen the others in MacLaren’s pack—the pretty blonde girl, the young boxer, the trim warrior that he looks at with obvious favouritism. _Philip_ should be his favourite. Philip squeezes past him, and MacLaren glances at Ray, dryly commenting, “Thanks for bringing him home.”

Ray grunts, “Sure,” and then he just sort of stands there, challenging, because he feels like he could take MacLaren in a fight and maybe wants to. 

MacLaren asks, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Ray mutters, “You can give me Phil.”

MacLaren lifts an eyebrow. His expression rarely moves. He looks so _dull_ —it’s hard to imagine why Philip would want him. MacLaren says, as though it’s not _Philip’s choice_ , “He’s not for sale.”

“C’mon,” Ray snorts. “You don’t need him. And you’re not taking care of him right. You’ve got him in this shit warehouse, and he’s still suffering withdrawals—”

“ _He’s not for sale_ ,” MacLaren repeats. He gives Ray a hard look that might make a lesser man back down. But Ray doesn’t. He _wants_ Philip too badly. MacLaren must see that, because he rolls his eyes like Ray’s being a child. “Look, Philip’s a special omega. He requires a special alpha.”

“And you’re saying I’m not?”

“I’m saying—”

Philip reappears. He hovers behind MacLaren and quietly cuts in, “Boss.”

MacLaren glances back. He sighs and nods, then steps away, and Ray feels an inner victory cheer at being the last one left standing. But Philip comes to the door in MacLaren’s stead, and he still looks as depressed as he usually does. 

He checks over his shoulder, maybe making sure that everyone else is out of earshot. He still keeps his voice hushed when he tells Ray, “Look, I’m... I’m flattered. But I have to be Mac’s.”

His chest constricts. _Boss_ and _Mac_. It doesn’t even sound like they’re close. And it doesn’t look like MacLaren’s keeping Philip satisfied at all. Ray’s hurt and annoyed but hovers there, because he’s not the sort of monster that would fight for an omega that doesn’t want him. 

Philip murmurs, “Sorry.” He probably knows that he _should_ be Ray’s. He has to feel it. 

He leans forward and pecks Ray’s cheek, which is already _bad_. But he’d be a good omega for Ray. He’s just disrespecting MacLaren because he doesn’t even like MacLaren. Ray’s sure of it. 

Philip asks, “Can you drive me to the support group on Wednesday?”

Ray mutters, “Yeah.” Philip bites his bottom lip, then withdraws.

The door closes, but Ray knows that it’s not over yet.


End file.
